Smeagol's Tale
by Joy of the Valar
Summary: What was Smeagol's life like before the finding of the ring? Was he liked? Did he have friends? To find out you are going to have to read the story.
1. Of Turnips and Boring Activities

Disclaimer: All Charaters and Places that you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them at all. Ridigol is a made up character of my creation, she belongs to me and cannot be used without my permission.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The dark and rich earth smelled musty. Oh, it was wonderful. Smeagol inhaled the sent one last time and then dropped the tiny seed into the hole he had made and covered it with soil. He smiled up at his grandmother as he patted the earth down.

"Your turnips shall do very well this year, they shall,"he said, " they don't start deep in the ground, but as they grow they will go farther down. I thinks that their roots enjoy the cool earth very much."

"I certainly agree , Smeagol," his grandmother said, then she grinned, which made her look quite lovely and grand for her age (which was very old), " the tops of turnips enjoy the cooler temperature as well, they don't need much sun. You have a wonderful way with planting things, and your help is very much appreciated. Though I do whish you would help me grow my plants as well."

"Growing plants is boring," was Smeagols reply. Then he hopped up, bid his grandmother good day and ambled off to find his friends (who were much more fun and exciting to be around).

  
  


Smeagol ran on top of the banks of the river on his way to his closets friends home. He was actually running, at that moment, across homes for the folk who lived there had burrowed their dwellings right into the bank. The reason for them doing this was so that they could be as close as possible to the river itself. It was quite safe for them there and they only had to leave their homes one a year when the river rose in the spring.

Smeagol, was a Hobbit as were the others in his community. A river- Hobbit actually, a descendant of Stoors. The Hobbits who lived in the bank of the Gladden River ( which branches of the Great River Aduin), delighted in fishing and paddling about in the river. A lot of them could swim, and none of them feared water at all.

Though his friends and family loved the river, Smeagol didn't care for it. He grew bored very easily waiting for a fish to nibble at his line. Instead of fishing, you could find him examining the roots of an ancient tree or diving into deep pools looking for long lost caves. Smeagol enjoyed this sort of thing so much that he'd rarely looked up and marvel at the blue sky or the squirrels hopping from one branch to the other. Which made him bump into things quite often since he never looked up to see where he was going. He was fondly made fun of because of this.

Smeagol soon reached his friend's house. He leaned on a tree to catch his breath. When he had done so, he hopped off the top of the bank and onto the ledge outside a doorway (which looked more like a big hole).

" Deagol!," he called, not bothering to be polite, "Deagol are you there? Come out please. We will go find Ridigol, we will."

"I'm coming Smea, have patience. Besides, Ridigol is already here," and out of the doorway a red faced fat hobbit appeared.

"Oh she is, is she?" said Smeagol and he peered into his friends home.

"She's in my family's boat Smea," Deagol laughed and turned his friend around. There in a small boat, made out of the reeds that grew by the river, was plump girl Hobbit. She smiled up at her two friends.

"Why did you think you had to come find me Smeagol?," her face grew inquisitive, "was I lost?"

"No Ridigol you weren't lost, it's just that your never at home or in any usual spot, therefore we must look for you ," Smeagol explained. 

"Well you two didn't need to find me today, I had to come and give Deagol's mother some onions that she had asked my mother for," Ridigol said, then she added, " are we ready to go?"

"Go where,?" asked Smeagol.

  
  


"Fishing of course," Deagol laughed once more.

  
  


"Deagol's going to catch the biggest fish this year," Ridigol explained.

"Doesn't he every year," muttered Smeagol under his breath as he climbed into the small boat. He detested fishing.

  
  



	2. Orcs and Hunger

The water was fresh and very cold, but Smeagol didn't mind. While his two friends fished, he dove down to the bottom of the river to explore the roots of an ancient willow tree. On his last trip down he had seen something white, wedged in-between two separate roots. Smeagol naturally became curious as to what this white object could be, so he dove down for the sixth time that day.

Holding his breath, Smeagol pulled himself further down until he reached the two roots. He grabbed hold of the object and began to pull. It was stuck tighter than he had guessed. He came back to the surface for air and then quickly dove back down. He tugged at the object again and this time it shifted. Smeagol could see that there were holes in it and that its shape was roundish. He continued to tug, but the object would not move, until all of a sudden it came loose and Smeagol brought it up to the surface.

It was a skull, the flesh had rotted and had been washed away long ago, but the skull remained and it had barely begun to disintegrate. 

"Deagol, Ridigol come look, come look," cried out Smeagol after he had pulled himself up on shore. The two looked over and Ridigol stood up making the boat they were in rock dangerously.

"What is it?," she asked, leaning over. Deagol tried to call out a warning, but it was too late. The boat tipped and out fell Ridigol and the lunch that Deagol had packed.

"Let me see," she said, as soon as she had surfaced. Falling out of the boat hadn't bothered her in the least. 

She swam over to Smeagol and Deagol rowed over once he had rescued the lunch (quite a soggy, sorry sight). The three of them stared at the skull for a long moment. Then Ridigol remarked that it was a very ugly skull, and the other two agreed by saying that it was.

It looked in fact, exceptionally ugly. The jaw bone stuck out a large distance and the eye sockets were enormously large. The head itself was very round and rather small, which made the skull look even uglier.

"I wonder who's head it was and if we knew him," said Ridigol. Her friends gave her a funny look.

"This skull is very old," explained Smeagol, " whoever's skull this was must have lived a very long time ago."

"So we never knew him?," Ridigol asked, looking disappointed.

"No, we never knew him."

"I don't think this skull belonged to a Hobbit Smea," said Deagol, "perhaps your grandmother would know."

"Yes, yes she would," Smeagol agreed.

The three friends got back into the boat and made there way back to the dwellings of their families. They soon reached the largest home, belonging to Smeagol's grandmother. 

* * *

Before we go on, I think I'd had better explain Smeagol's grandmother's station. She was not only a grandmother to one family. She was The Grandmother. She was very wise and wealthy ( a very good combination), and she acted as a sort of matriarch to the community. I am not sure how she came about her wealth, but I do believe she became wise from her age and her dealings with men and elves. 

River- hobbits were not shy of men, unlike the other types of hobbit, and dealt with them often. Through this, The Grandmother learned about the happenings of the world around her. She had connection to the elves through the decedents of Fallohides (another type of hobbit who prefers language and song and does not like rivers at all, but instead lived near Rivendell and the elves who dwelt there). These hobbits lived far enough from the river folk that it was rare for them to meet. In fact, The Grandmother had been the only one to talk with one in many years. When she had been young, she had traveled to Rivendell in search of adventure and had spent much time there learning history and legend. Though she did not know much, she knew a great deal more about the river- hobbit's history than anyone in her community.

When she came back to the Gladden river, she had a head full of knowledge. She got married and had a family and taught them what she knew. Her family soon became very well known and respected, and she was called upon by others in the community to give advice. The older she grew, the wiser she became and her place in the community grew. Even before Smeagol was born, she was considered the Grandmother of the river-hobbits. 

* * *

Smeagol opened the door to the home and called inside. 

"Grandmother, are you there?," he said. The wrinkly face of his fathers's mother appeared at from a doorway leading out into the front hall.

"Smeagol dear, come in," she said beckoning. The three young hobbits entered the front hall and then went into the grandmother's library.

The library was full of books that the grandmother had acquired during her time with the hobbits who lived near the elves at Rivendell. The room also had three comfy chairs and a fireplace that had a fishing rod laying across its mantel. It was a very cosy looking room.

Smeagol sat down in one of the chairs beside his grandmother and Ridigol settled in the other. Deagol sat on the floor leaning against one of the shelves. Then Smeagol showed his grandmother the skull.

She took it in her hands and examined it closely, turning it over and over. She frowned and shuddered. The other three remained very silent as if they were holding their breath. Finally the grandmother broke the silence.

"It's and orc's skull."

"Oh," said Ridigol knowingly, then she asked, "what's an orc?"

"It's a horrible creature," the grandmother said seriously, but then she smiled at Ridigol's foolishness.

"I believe that there are orcs living in the Misty Mountains. This skull is very old, but I believe that when he was alive this orc probably lived in the Mountains too. Orcs, are horrible creatures," grandmother said again.

"What do they look like?," asked Deagol.

"Well I've never seen one, but I suppose that their faces and bodies are contorted. They are dark and filthy and vile. Their hair, if they have any, would be matted from lack of washing."

"You mean they never take baths?," Ridigol asked, imagining what it would be like never to take a bath, "they must stink."

"They probably do," grandmother chuckled, then again grew serious, " they are cruel." There are stories of great armies being destroyed by the orcs. No matter how many the army would kill, there would always seem to be more. They must breed rather quickly, for their numbers are vast."

The room was silent for a moment as the three younger hobbits pondered this new information. Once again the silence was broken, but not by a voice. Instead it was a stomach's growl.

"I wonder if orcs are good to eat," joked Deagol, rubbing his stomach. They all laughed and Smeagol's grandmother invited them all to lunch. As they headed toward the kitchen Smeagol took another glance at the skull, sitting ominously on a chair. 


	3. Futures

Disclaimer- The riddle that is in italics and underlined belongs to Tolkein and can be found in his book The Hobbit. The riddle that is only in italics belongs to me and cannot be used without permission.

Chapter 3- Futures

After a very enjoyable meal of fish with onions, hot buttered bread, and steaming mushrooms (one of the greatest discoveries of hobbits), Smeagol and his friends left his grandmothers home.

It had grown dark and the moon hadn't yet appeared above the trees. Therefore, it was difficult to see as they paddled the boat back to Deagol's dwelling. That didn't bother them too much though since Deagol's eyes were very good. He was very talented at finding lost possessions. Sometimes in corners and in places where others of his kind couldn't because their eyesight wasn't as sharp as his.

Ridigol chattered without ceasing for quite a while as they progressed down the river. She talked about nothing of importance, so her friends tuned her out (which was very rude of them). Therefore Smeagol didn't hear her when she asked them a question.

"What?" Smeagol asked, peering at her, in what little light there was.

"I asked you what you wanted to do with your life once you become of age?" Ridigol looked a little miffed that he had been ignoring her.

"Oh, I don't know. Let's see, let's see," Smeagol thought to himself for a minute. No one had actually asked him that question before. His father built boats, but Smeagol knew that he didn't want to do that. He didn't want to fish either. Maybe he would be like his grandmother and go on an adventure and come back with knowledge hobbits had only dreamed of.

"Yes, that's it, it is, " Smeagol said excitedly, "I shall go on an adventure."

"Where will you go?" Deagol wanted to know.

"To the mountains," said Smeagol (he was referring to the Misty mountains though he didn't know that it was there name), "I shall go see the mountains and learn their deepest secrets."

"Oh," was all that Ridigol said. She pondered this for a while and then addressed Deagol.

"What will you do Deagol?" she asked, turning around to look at him.

"Fish of course," Deagol replied without having to think, "I'm going to catch the biggest fish in the Great River, I am."

"It would have large fish," Ridigol assumed. The three young hobbits had never seen the Great River (also called the Aduin), even though the Gladden River on which they lived branched off it. They could only imagine what kinds of fish, or in Smeagol's case treasure, dwelled in the Aduin.

"What are you going to do Ridigol?" Smeagol returned her question.

"Marry Deagol," she answered. Smeagol began to laugh and Deagol blushed. 

"You can't marry Deagol," said Smeagol, "he smells like fish."

"I like the way he smells," said Ridigol hotly.

"We've reached my dock," interrupted Deagol, for they had and he wanted them to talk about another subject.

They exited the boat and Deagol tied it to the dock. They climbed a ladder to the top of the bank and sat there. 

Ridigol began counting the stars that she could see. She was on her back and her nut brown hair was fanned out on the grass. Deagol looked at her and thought to himself, ' I guess I could marry Ridigol one day, I could.' Then he turned to watch the moon dance on the ripples of the water.

Smeagol was on his belly observing an ant make its way back to its hole. As he did this he thought back to the skull and wondered what secrets the Misty mountain (where the grandmother thought the skull came from) held for him. Secrets, he wondered, how many were waiting to be discovered? While Smeagol thought, a riddle came to his mind.

Whispered silently ear to ear,

Sometimes it may disappear.

Can be found in deep dark places,

Underground or in our faces.

Must be kept carefully,

or it will be lost for eternity.

A secret. Those words had been one of the first riddles that Smeagol had learned from his grandmother. She had learned the art of playing with words from the elves during her time with them. Smeagol loved playing riddle games with her and had become very good at it.

"Lets play a game of riddles," he suggested to his friends.

"You know I don't like riddles Smea," Deagol groaned.

"Oh let's play Deagol, it will give us something to do," Ridigol said. So Deagol, not wanting to disappoint Ridigol, reluctantly agreed.

"Try to guess this one,"Smeagol said, and he told Deagol the riddle he had been thinking of.

"I do not know what it is Smea," Deagol said after a moment's thought.

"You're not even trying, you aren't," Smeagol scowled. He went back to watching the ant. Ridigol squealed a half a minute later.

"I know what it is, it's a secret."

Smeagol just stared at Ridigol. She had never answered a riddle before.

"Is it my turn to tell you one now?" she asked, and Smeagol nodded. She thought for while and then told her riddle.

"Alive without breath,

As cold as death,

Never thirsty, ever drinking,

All in mail never clinking."

This was a very easy riddle and Smeagol had no trouble coming up with the answer, but Deagol opened his mouth first.

"Fish," he said excitedly. Then a voice came from the home in the bank below them.

"Deagol, it is getting late. Come in now."

"I'm coming mother," Deagol answered. He said goodnight to his friends and then disappeared over the bank. Moments later Smeagol and Ridigol could hear a door closing.

"Let's keep playing," Ridigol said.

"We'd better not," said Smeagol, "It is about time that I went home."

They departed and headed for their separate houses where their families were waiting for them. 

After stopping on the way to prod at a rabbit's hole, it did not take long for Smeagol to reach his family's burrow. His father was waiting for the young hobbit when he came in.

"Did you have a good day son?" the boat builder asked.

"Yes, a very good day," Smeagol replied looking at his feet, " it was also a long day and I'm ready for bed." Smeagol began to head for his bedroom.

"Did you catch any fish?" his father inquired, "I'm assuming you did go fishing with Deagol."

"Fish?" Smeagol looked up at his father and then back down at his feet, " I caught a few, but I don't have them any more. I was on my way back home when I bumped into a tree and the string the fish were on fell out of my hand and into the river."

Smeagol was lying of course and his father was not fooled.

"You didn't catch any fish, did you?" he asked. His son shook his head.

"Why not? I suppose you had better things to do, for example digging up ridiculous roots. What is going to come out of looking at roots Smeagol? Nothing. Why can you not do sensible and normal activities for once? You should begin to follow the example of your friend Deagol. He's a good and sensible person. I suppose you think you're higher then all that since your grandmother is who she is."

Smeagol's face began to burn from anger and embarrassment, but his father was not finished.

"Tomorrow, instead of going off with your friends, you will stay here and begin to learn sensible skills. You are my only son and it is time that you learn the respectable trade of boat building. We will commence your lessons early in the morning, so go and get a good nights sleep."

Smeagol was finally dismissed. He headed off to bed very angry with his father. He wanted his father's approval, but life on the Gladden River was very boring. The little river- hobbit wished for a chance to live his dreams. Just a small opportunity was all he needed.

  
  



	4. Ignorance is Bliss

Chapter 4- Ignorance is Bliss

"Demandred, my son! Demandred, where are you?"

Smeagol looked up from the reed he was shaping for a boat. On the bank of the river was his grandmother. She was shading her eyes with one hand as she peered down at her son's dock. In her other hand was a basket; Smeagol hoped it contained lunch.

"Father went into the house for a moment Grandmother," Smeagol called up to the older hobbit, "he should be out again soon, he should."

"Smeagol!" exclaimed his Grandmother, as if she had just noticed him, "how are you my dear, my precious grandson."

She climbed down the ladder that was propped up against the bank and hopped onto the dock. Smeagol put the reed he was working on down and stood up to greet her. She had to look up to be able to talk to Smeagol. During the four years he had been working for his father, he had grown a lot for a hobbit.

"Look at you," gushed his Grandmother, "where has my little Smeagol gone? I suppose you are now too big to squeeze into the small dark holes you used to love to examine."

"I suppose so," agreed Smeagol. He even gave a little laugh to show that he was much too old for such things now, but at the same time he glanced at the Misty Mountains that he still secretly wanted to explore.

Smeagol's grandmother saw the look in his eyes, but she did not get the chance to say anything to him. For at that moment her son returned from the house.

"Mother, it is so very nice to see you, it is, "said Demandred, and he leaned over to give her kiss.

"Of course the only reason that it is nice to me is that I have brought lunch," joked his mother, and Demandred laughed heartily as if he had always been a laughing jolly hobbit.

Demandred was far from jovial though. When his wife died (Smeagol had been only at the age of two), he drew into himself and gave all his time to the boats he built. Of course nobody knew this except for Smeagol. Even Demandred's mother didn't realize the full extent of her son's grief.

"Well then, here you go," said Smeagol's Grandmother as she passed them the basket, "I must be on my way, I must." Then she gave her son and grandson both hugs and a peck on the cheek and left.


	5. When Friends Grow Apart

Chapter 5- When Friends Grow Apart

"Why can't you come with us?"Ridigol asked Smeagol, her brown eyes wide.

"I have already told you, I have," Smeagol answered impatiently, "I have to finish this boat, I do."

"Can you not finish it later? You hardly come fishing with us anymore. I suppose it has been almost a year since the last trip you took with us. Do you not want to be with your friends?"Deagol asked, "we're planning to go to the Great river. Smeagol turned his back on Deagol and began to work on the boat.

"I have to finish this. You two go without me," he said. Smeagol had never turned his back on anyone before. It was very rude of him. Therefore Deagol grabbed his friend's shoulder to turn him around.

Smeagol did turn around, but not happily. He was beginning to lose his patients.

"I am not coming," he said. Deagol was confused. Smeagol never acted like this before. He reached out and put his hand on Smeagol's shoulder. It was promptly shrugged off.

"Smea? Are you okay?" Deagol asked. Smeagol's patience had ran out and Deagol was pushed into the river. He came up spluttering.

"Leave me alone, I have work to do," Smeagol said for the last time, and he turned back to his work. Deagol and Ridigol hurriedly left in their small boat, leaving Smeagol alone.

He watched them paddle away, wondering what had gotten into him. Something was going to happen, very soon.

Smeagol looked down at his hammer. He sighed and looked up. The sun told him that it wasn't even noon time yet. He supposed that he could go fishing after all. He at least needed to apologize to his friends.


	6. The Apology and Forgotten Birthdays

A/N- Well I ended up adding to this chapter instead of writing chapter 7. Who knows when that will get written, probably not for another couple of months. Patience readers, patience.

Chapter 6- The Apology and Forgotten Birthdays

It was not long for Smeagol to find his friends. They were not far in front of him in the river. Not wanting to be seen though, Smeagol stayed close to the bank so that the willow trees hanging over him would hide his approach.

Smeagol watched as Deagol paddled up to a dock. He and Ridigol got out and embraced. Ridigol was crying, and Smeagol watched with interest as his friend brushed the tears of her rosy cheeks. Ridigol looked tenderly up at Deagol and apologized for not feeling up to going fishing with him. Deagol kissed her and Ridigol ran into her home in the bank and Deagol continued to the Great River alone.

At least Deagol thought he was alone. He was unaware of Smeagol behind him. Smeagol had not made himself known because he wasn't sure what he was going to say to his friend. How was he going to apologize?

Therefore all the way to the Great River, Smeagol thought out apologies in his head.

'Deagol, I'm sorry for..' no something else.

"Deagol, my friend you must forgive me, you must, for . . .' no that wasn't going to work either.

'Deagol, I've decided to come fishing after all, and I just wanted to say. . .'

"Smea!"

Smeagol looked up from his rowing. He had not been concentrating on where he was headed and therefore had ended up in the middle of the river in full sight of his friend.

"Oh, well I...I'm sorry Deagol. I should not have gotten mad, I shouldn't have," there, he had said it.

"Thats all right Smea," Deagol grinned, easily forgiving his best friend, "I knew you didn't mean it."

With the apology made, the two friends continued there way to the Great River. Their boats side by side.

Deagol had been fishing for 3 hours and Smeagol was hot, tired and bored (though that was nothing unusual). Smeagol's friend had been after one particular fish for most of his time on the Great River. The fish seemed to find pulling at Deagol's line a hilarious game and the poor hobbit was getting very fustrated. Smeagol wished for the fish to grow weary and swim away, but it did not. Finally Deagol gave up.

Blast it all, dang it all," Deagol muttered, joining Smeagol on the bank, " I'll catch the little fish if it's the last thing I'll do."

"You will, " Smeagol agreed, but his mind was on a rabbits hole so he didn't pay much attention to his friend as he continued talking. Deagol of course didn't mind Smeagol not participating in the conversation and babbled on about fishing, Ridigol and his birthday.

". . . and there's going to be lots of good food and your grandmother said she was going to make a rabbit stew with all the vegetables from her garden and she promised she'll add extra mushrooms. I'll bet your excited and. . .Smea?

"Mmmm?" Smeagol looked up from his hole, " birthday?"

"Yes of course birthday Smea. Its your birthday tomorrow,"laughed Deagol, "you've forgotten, haven't you."

"I guess I did," Smea smiled, of all the things to forget, "what are you giving me?"

"It's a surprise, it is," the young river hobbit scolded.

"Then I shall find out tomorrow, I shall. Lets go home Deagol, I've still have work to do at home."

So the two friends headed back to their Gladden river. It had turned out to be a remarkable day and there was to be a birthday tomorrow. Birthdays were always wonderful.


End file.
